


Angels and Double O's

by Zephyrfox



Category: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angels, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Character Death, Self-Destructive Behavior, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Elements, future relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 05:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14585859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox
Summary: Being a guardian angel was all Q knew. He worked hard, and he loved and cared for his charges. Two of those charges, though, tended to cause him more trouble than all the rest. Of course they were his favorites - and he'd do whatever it took to make sure they survived.





	Angels and Double O's

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jaimistoryteller for the prompts and encouragement!
> 
> You can find the cover art [here!](https://leavesdancing.tumblr.com/image/174657737484)

 

Q shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position on the rocks. His back itched, in the exact center, right between his wings. No matter how he stretched and contorted, he couldn’t reach it. The itch had been annoying enough while he’d been incorporeal — even though he’d sternly told himself that it was only his imagination. He hadn’t listened to his imagination whispering back that it was perfectly capable of imagining all sorts of things.

The annoying itch was probably a fitting punishment. He wasn’t supposed to be manifesting on the physical plane at all. But it had been a lovely day, and none of his charges needed him, and he couldn’t resist taking physical form to sit and watch the small water creatures playing on the bank. He shifted his wings, spreading them wide to warm in the sun.

A different kind of itch intruded upon his awareness. It started as a tickle, attracting his attention. He focused inward, finding the knowledge there that one of his charges had need of him.

With a thought he became intangible and faded out of existence.

 

~~~~

 

He appeared once more in bright sunshine. This time, he remained incorporeal. Several others of his kind, also incorporeal, stood next to their own charges, ignoring everyone else around them. People and large animals — horses — milled around, filling the field. He pulled in his wings, folding them neatly against his back. It always felt odd when a mortal walked through them.

“Hurry up, Mom! I’ll be late for my event!”

Q grinned at the excitement in the girl’s voice. Meg Kurland was one of his favorite charges. He looked around, spotting her standing next to her bay mare. Hippolyta dwarfed the ten-year-old.

Meg’s mother, Amy, knelt on the ground, packing up the remains of their lunch. “Go on, sweetheart. I’ll be right behind you. Good luck!”

Meg grinned and swung up into the mare’s back. With a nudge of her heels into the mare’s flanks, she urged Hippolyta forward.

Amy smiled fondly as she watched her daughter ride away. Q couldn’t blame her. He remembered the first time he’d seen Meg, wrinkled and damp and screaming at the top of her lungs. The blonde of her newborn tuft of hair wouldn’t be apparent until the nurse attending her birth had cleaned her up. Q had been only peripherally aware that Amy lay in the bed, watching her new daughter. After all, she was another’s charge.

He froze as a thousand futures suddenly played out behind his eyes. He exerted his will and waited as they collapsed into each other, coalescing into two main branches. In the first, the one branching into myriad possibilities, Meg rode easily into the arena and into her future. In the second, there were two equally likely possibilities. In both, Meg’s horse would throw her in the next thirty seconds. She would land wrong, breaking her neck, and she would either die immediately or she would become paralyzed from the neck down.

What would cause Hippolyta to throw Meg? Q expanded his attention until he spotted the cause. There. Q watched a bee fly through the crowd, approaching too near one man who had taken his hat off to wipe sweat from his brow. The man used the hat to swat at the bee, sending it careering through the air and into Hippolyta’s flank. The confused bee instinctively stung the mare, causing her to jump and throw her rider.

Q pulled his attention back and stepped forward just as the man swatted the bee. He took no time to consider the consequences his actions might bring, and caught the bee, cushioning it in his hands. The reprieve gave it a chance to take control of its flight, and Q released it. The bee flew off with an almost contented hum — away from Hippolyta. Q relaxed. Meg was safe.

A sense of amused appreciation suffused him, and he basked in the warmth of his Creator’s approval.

 

~~~~

 

Later, Q drifted among others of his kind, communing with each other close to the Presence of their Creator. It was something they all did when their charges didn’t need them. Q didn’t indulge as often as the others. The problem — something he could never admit to his siblings — was that he got bored. And when he was bored, his thoughts turned to his favorite charges.

He had known James Bond and Alec Trevelyan their whole lives. He had watched over them with trepidation as they turned to the military, each joining as soon as they could after managing to make it to adulthood. There had been a few times that he hadn’t been sure either would survive, even with him watching over them. He had been utterly delighted when they met and became best friends. When James and Alec became lovers he had been surprised and pleased. Humans had such funny restrictions on love and sex.

He didn’t understand the urge for sex, but he understood love all too well. It broke his heart that James and Alec loved each other but had to remain apart, simply because of the human idea of propriety. He wished he could tell his charges that his Creator didn’t care who anyone loved.

Contact between humans was important, he knew. When he saw James and Alec practically springing apart after they’d finished making love, he’d tried to figure out a way to help them. He discovered by accident that the closer he was to them when they had sex, the longer they would stay close. He had no idea why, since there was no way that they could possibly know he was present. So, one night, he had decided to try an experiment. Instead of watching from the corner of the room, he’d gingerly sat upon the bed while his two charges rocked and thrust against each other, moaning in pleasure. Greatly daring, he’d stroke the back or flank nearest to him at the time. And then, after James and Alec had both orgasmed, instead of immediately getting out of bed, they stayed there, cuddled together. Q had laughed, delighted with his success, and moved to the end of the bed to sit beside their legs, watching over them as they fell asleep.

When James and Alec had to be away from each other, he made sure to split his time between them. He loved seeing Alec’s little smile when he thought of James, and the soft look in James’ deep blue eyes when he thought of Alec. Q couldn’t resist pressing a chaste kiss to their lips, wanting to comfort them when they were apart.

 

~~~~

 

Q leaned against the wall of the MI6 office, his concern growing as he listened to Alec’s mission briefing. The mission sounded like the ones usually assigned to his charge, but this one seemed more… open-ended. It had the possibility of years undercover rather than months. What would James think when he found out his partner could be out of touch for so long? Q wasn’t happy about that prospect either. He’d only just gotten the two to the point where they would stay the night with each other more often than not.

Alec nodded pensively when the briefer finished speaking. “This is a long term assignment. I need time to, ah, wrap up a few things here before I go.”

Q knew what Alec really wanted — time to let James, who was away on another mission, know he would be away for longer than expected, and possibly make arrangements to meet.

“No.” The briefer appeared unimpressed. “You have get to the airport without delay. You’ll receive your supplies at a drop in Arkhangelsk before you are expected at the facility. We have an in with Colonel Ourumov, and we can’t afford a delay. You _must_ convince him you are telling the truth. We need this intel.”

Alec’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. “Very well. I’ll leave immediately.” He rose and left the office, his movements sharp, telegraphing his annoyance.

Q bit his lip as he trailed his charge through MI6 and into the car park. How could he make this better for Alec?

He hadn’t come up with an answer by the time he entered the car to sit beside his charge. He studied Alec, incorporeal and unnoticed, on the way to the airport. His charge had pushed all his emotions away and presented an agent’s blank face to the world. It broke Q’s heart to see, although he had painfully learned the necessity that called for such a facade. He placed a supportive hand on his charge’s shoulder, and felt some of Alec’s tension bleed away. It was all he could do to help — and it would be all was allowed to do. He felt the pull summoning him to care for another of his charges. With a last encouraging squeeze of his hand, he left Alec behind, and headed towards his next charge.

 

~~~~

 

Q watched over Benny, hoping that his fever would break soon. The 6-year-old was in hospital, one of several children in the ward, struck down by the current, and unusually virulent, influenza.

If he were human, he would say that he was being run off his feet. As it was, he was glad he was an immortal being. Why had his all of his charges — except for James and Alec, who he would have expected it from — become so self destructive or danger prone? If Q could have been annoyed, he might have been. But of course, that would be ridiculous. Angels were known for their even tempers.

He hadn’t been able to check on Alec or James in the two weeks since Alec’s latest mission started. He hadn’t even been able to check on the status of James’ mission, although he was sure that it must be over by now. James had to have learned his partner was away, and Q hadn’t been there to support him.

“Hello, Elidan.”

Q turned at the voice, inwardly rolling his eyes at the name. All of his siblings knew his preference, and took care to call him Q — except one. “Rahiel. What are you doing here?”

Rahiel raised an eyebrow and sniffed at him. “I have a charge here, of course. As do you, I assume. Did you ask Sabrael why _they_ are here?” The angel gestured toward Erica, Benny’s mother, and their sibling who stood over her, with their hand on her shoulder.

Sabrael looked up at the mention of their name, concern in their dark eyes. “Rahiel,” they admonished, “I would prefer that you _not_ drag me into your petty disputes. You know that Q dislikes that name. It is beneath you to pester him about it.”

Rahiel glowered. “I was just trying to make conversation. These humans can be so boring, don’t you agree?”

“No, I do not. If that is all you have to say, you ought to see to your charge, as Q is seeing to his and I to mine. Good day, Rahiel.”

Q smothered a grin. He did so love his sibling sometimes. Sabrael wasn’t one to suffer fools — or Rahiel — gladly.

Rahiel shot him a glare, correctly intuiting his glee. “Well. I know when I’m not wanted.” Rahiel snapped his out wings in a totally unnecessary movement and vanished.

“Do not mind him, Q,” Sabrael said gently. Some of their charge’s mothering instinct had apparently rubbed off on them.

“Of course not, Sabrael. You are very wise.”

The corners of Sabael’s eyes crinkled up in mirth. _“You_ are a flatterer, Q, just like your favorite charges.”

Q laughed. “You know me so well, Sabrael.” Then he sobered, feeling the pull to another of his charges. He cast a glance at Benny. He was reluctant to leave him unsupported during his fever, but this pull had an urgency that spoke of imminent disaster. He had no choice.

He leaned over Benny and stroked brown curls back from the boy’s sweaty brow. When he looked up, he met Sabrael’s knowing eyes.

“Go on, Q. I shall be here. I can support mother and son if need be.”

“Thank you, Sabrael.” He focused inward, concentrating on his next charge’s location.

 

~~~~

 

He found himself in a truck that was part of a military convoy, traveling through a mountain range. Where was his charge? Ah, there. Pyotr sat amongst his fellow soldiers, laughing and joking. Several of Q’s siblings were already there, and a few more arrived just after he had. What was going on? There was no sign of anything that might go wrong — he stiffened as he saw the futures that stemmed from this moment. When the visions left him, he exchanged looks of horror with his siblings.

“Right,” Sephineh said. She was the oldest of his siblings present. “We know what will happen, let’s get our charges through this.”

They exchanged grim nods as they went to their charges and waited for the inevitable.

The explosion happened without warning, somewhere up ahead. The truck rammed into something hard, tipping up as if it were climbing an obstacle, then crashed down onto its side. Q had no idea what had happened, nor did he care. He was there for Pyotr.

He held onto Pyotr as other soldiers fell on top of his charge while the truck slipped and slid backwards down the mountain on its side. _When would it stop?_  

With a great, metallic screech, the truck slammed into something that halted its downward slide. All the humans inside ended up in tangled pile against the roof of the overturned truck. Q and his siblings stayed as close to their charges as they could. Occasionally one of his siblings would stand up, holding the soul of their charge, and fade from view.

Q stayed. Pyotr was badly injured, but still alive.

 

~~~~

 

An itch ran through Q, and he turned his attention inward, eyes widening when he found that it tugged him towards James. He could feel that his charge was getting a new assignment — but there was something wrong about it. He groaned. He couldn’t tell what it was, and he couldn’t leave Pyotr. He took some comfort in the fact that he didn’t see myriad futures stemming from the moment, and those he did see didn’t end in death.

At his side, Pyotr cried out in pain. He bent to comfort Pyotr, knowing that he had to pay attention to his current charge, and to trust that James could handle the assignment.

Q patiently supported Pyotr for two long, painful days. Most of his siblings had departed by the time a rescue team arrived at the crash site. He followed as Pyotr was airlifted to a military hospital, and then stood by, watching and waiting, in the operating room as a surgical team saved his charge’s life. He left Pyotr in the recovery room when he felt the pull toward another of his charges. He was disappointed that he wouldn’t have time to check on James and Alec, but he knew his duty.

His next charge was in the NICU of a German hospital. The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit was busy, although the lights had been dimmed in a nod to the late hour. He appeared next to his charge, Elisa. She was small for a one year old, pale and sprouting tubes and wires. Her grandfather held her, careful not to disturb the equipment sustaining her life. The worry on his face was mirrored by the angel that stood at his shoulder, watching him. Q’s sibling smiled a greeting at him, then returned to her task of supporting her charge.

Elisa was seriously ill; she’d been born prematurely, and had been in and out of hospital throughout her first year of life.

In the early hours of the morning, Elisa’s mother, grim and dry-eyed, took over from her father-in-law, ignoring the old man when he tried to comfort her.

Q watched his sibling follow her charge as they left the room, before turning back to Elisa and her mother. Elisa stirred, fretful, at the arms that were no longer holding her so lovingly. He had seen this before, in other hospital rooms. Elisa’s mother had rejected her, so that she wouldn’t feel the pain when her daughter died. Still, Elisa’s mother held her just as carefully as her grandfather had.

Elisa’s father came in around noon for his shift, with one of Q’s siblings supporting him. He bent down and held Elisa’s mother for a moment before gently taking Elisa from her. He supported the baby on his lap, and when Elisa’s mother turned to leave, he grasped her hand and spoke a few words of encouragement to her. Elisa’s mother bowed her head and nodded — and before she left, she brushed a gentle kiss to Elisa’s forehead.

Elisa’s father smiled sadly as his wife left, then sang softly to Elisa. She settled against him, opening up baby blue eyes to look at her father.

Q smiled. Elisa needed the love and support of her relatives. He was preparing to leave, thinking that her crisis was over now that Elisa’s mother was showing signs of accepting her, when Elisa stiffened unnaturally, fighting for breath. _This_ was it, the reason he was there. He bent over, brushing his fingers over her baby soft cheek, trying to comfort her.

Nurses rushed over, urging Elisa’s father out of the way so that they could attempt to ease her distress. A doctor rushed in, sliding to a stop at Elisa’s cradle, pulling a stethoscope from her neck.

Q let the chaos swirl around him as he concentrated on his charge. Another shiver ran through him, and he inhaled sharply. This time the feeling that told him his charges were in danger pulled him towards James and Alec. He looked blindly in the direction of the pull in horror. He couldn’t leave Elisa. His favorite charges were in danger, but he didn’t see their deaths. He would have to wait until Elisa stabilized before he could go to them. He prayed that James and Alec would be all right.

 

~~~~

 

After Elisa finally stabilized, Q prepared to go search for James and Alec. The pull of danger for them had eased; he just wanted to check on them, to ease his mind that they were all right. The new pull that slammed into him made him gasp in horror.

He followed the pull, finding himself on an inflatable raft, pitching capriciously on a river, dangerously swollen with flood water. At first he thought it was one of those adventure things, white water rafting, but there didn’t seem to be anyone who looked like a tour guide among the five people on the raft. His charge, Lauren, was huddled against the side of the raft, holding on tightly, with her boyfriend, Peter. Two of the three other people were also clutching the raft as hard as they could. The one who wasn’t, a teenage boy, was attempting to climb over the side, to get into the water. An older man, possibly the boy’s father, was gripping the boy’s life jacket, trying to pull him back into the raft. Three of Q’s siblings were there, worry on their faces. But one wasn’t watching on anyone in the raft. Q looked in the direction Tahariel was facing, the same side of the raft as the boy attempting to climb out. Something — a human — bobbed in the water, being carried farther and farther away from the raft.

Tahariel sighed. Grief filled his face as he spread his wings and flew towards the head bobbing in the water. When the angel reached it, he swooped low, then soared off, carrying his charge’s soul.

Q and his remaining siblings looked at each other soberly, drawing on each other’s strength, and went to their charges.

 

~~~~

 

Q fled when the events of the river were over at last, returning home. He wanted to commune with his siblings, and let his pain and grief drift away alongside them. He felt guilty about it — he still hadn’t checked on James or Alec. But after taking care of Lauren, he’d needed to spend some time in the Presence. He’d stayed with her, and when the raft capsized, he had carried her to find the peace that the river had denied. He groaned when he felt the itch pulling him again, but he went, duty and empathy for his charges spurring him on.

He found himself in a room, surrounded by people, waiting. The atmosphere was tense, a mixture of fear and anger. Several of his siblings were there, supporting their charges through this difficult time. He nodded at Sarandiel, who returned his nod and turned back to her charge. Q looked for his own charge, Debra, and found her sitting on a low couch, attempting to comfort a distraught young woman.

“Why aren’t they telling us anything?” the young woman burst out.

Debra put an arm around her. “They’ll tell us when they know anything, Allie.”

“But it’s been _hours!”_

Several others around the room nodded in agreement at the young woman’s anguished wail.

“And it will take longer before they get to them that are still trapped.”

The young woman shoved Debra away at the reasonable words and snarled, “It’s all right for _you,_ old woman, your men aren’t in that mine!”

Others in the room, sensing some break in the seemingly unending horror of waiting for news, drew closer to the two women.

Debra sighed. “No, they aren’t, and I thank the Lord every day that my boys got out of this town when they were grown. But don’t you forget, Allie, my man died in that mine, and I still worked for the company. I’ve been here, in the office, since the day I left school. I know you and yours, and I know what you’re going through. And if you think I’m not just as worried about those men as any of the rest of you, you’re mistaken.”

Several of the onlookers turned away, abashed, but Allie stood up and went to the window, staring out, hugging herself.

Debra sat alone, staring after the young woman with regret. The wrinkles in her aged face seemed so much deeper than the last time Q had seen her. He could feel her exhaustion and pain, and put his hand on her shoulder in support. He thought it might have helped, but his charge sighed, seemingly lost in her thoughts.

Hours passed. A spokesman from the company would appear from time to time, offering little in the way of news, and the waiting relatives would focus their fear and anger on him. Debra spent the time sighing, and occasionally pressing a hand to her chest or her head. Q could tell she felt ill. The stress of waiting with the families was wearing on her. Why couldn’t she leave, go home and rest? But he knew — Debra felt the same sense of duty and empathy as he did. She would no sooner leave the folks around her to deal with this on their own than Q would leave her.

A cheer passed through the room when the spokesman offered real hope for the first time, and announced that the missing men had been found — alive. The representative reminded the families that they needed to stay in the room, so they wouldn’t get in the way of the rescue effort. Q was hopeful that Debra would feel her duty fulfilled and leave, but she stayed.

“Oh my God!” Allie’s wail at the window attracted everyone’s attention. “They’re bringing them out!”

Outside, the busy scene became even busier, while inside people crowded to the window to see. Debra remained alone on the couch. She put her hand to her head again and tried to stand up, only to collapse back onto the couch.

Q hovered at her shoulder, worried. He didn’t like not knowing what was wrong with his charge. Was it just the stress of the situation? One of the women waiting noticed that Debra had collapsed, and got one of the doctors outside to come in. The doctor examined Debra and put her on oxygen, then had her brought outside to one of the ambulances. Q followed his charge to the hospital.

 

~~~~

 

Once at the hospital, Q waited, watching while a doctor treated Debra.

“Hello, Q.”

He turned at the familiar voice and smiled. “Hello, Sabrael. How are you?”

“The same as ever, young one. But I notice that you have seemed harried of late. Your charges are keeping you busy.”

He nodded. The older angel hadn’t been the only one of his siblings to make that same observation. “It does seem odd. They’ve all had sudden illnesses or injuries from out of character risks. Even today, my charge didn’t seek medical treatment when they fell ill, making their condition worse.”

“Our charges sometimes make… poorly considered choices. All we can do is be there to support them through it.” Sabrael patted his shoulder. “I must go to my charge, now, Q. I do wish you luck, and hope your charges become more sensible.”

“Thank you, Sabrael.” He watched as his elder sibling went to their charge, and wondered if there might be something he wasn’t seeing involved in the reason his charges had all become so prone to crises.

 

~~~~

 

It seemed to Q as though it might take forever before he would be able to clear his duties enough to go see his favorites. Before he could, he felt the pull to James that indicated mortal peril. He rushed to James’ side, astonished to find him drunk, angry, and trying to break into his car, his keys lying unnoticed in the gravel at his feet. What had happened to him? Where was Alec? Q huffed, annoyed at himself. Alec should still be undercover, on the assignment that had made them both uneasy.

He read James’ intention of getting into the car to speed along the mountain roads — hopefully to careen off at a random curve for a sure path to death. The suicidal thoughts had been what had summoned Q. As a precaution, he made sure the keys were hidden behind a rock. He couldn’t let James drive. But what had happened to put his charge in such a state?

He watched, wide-eyed, as James pounded the roof of the car in anger, then slumped, defeated. James half slid, half fell to the ground, to sit with his head in his hands.

Q sighed and sat beside him. He could feel James’ anger and grief ease somewhat as he bumped their shoulders together. He concentrated, looking into James’ past to see what had brought his charge to this.

He threaded through the past through months — time that he’d been busy dealing with crisis after crisis with his charges. Finally he came to the cause of James’ pain, and watched as his charges infiltrate a chemical weapons facility in Russia. That had been part of Alec’s lone assignment. Q grew confused — he thought that Alec had been told to go undercover. James’ assignment, as he and Alec set explosive charges, seemed to be making sure the factory was destroyed.

Everything, as far as Q could tell, was proceeding as it normally would. He deplored the potential loss of human life that his charges engaged in, but that was the way of the human world, and that potential for violence was the reason he and his siblings had charges to support.

He felt James’ alarmed realization that Alec had been captured, then the jumbled shock/horror/disbelief/fury/grief that flooded through James when a strange man’s bullet slammed into Alec’s skull, killing him instantly. Q felt the same shock and disbelief — he could feel that Alec was still alive, far away on the other side of the world. What was going on?

He itched to go check on Alec, but was afraid of what James might yet do. Q waited, holding James, even after he passed out. When James woke, sober but in pain, he allowed James to find his car keys. His charge no longer seemed actively suicidal, but his anger and self-loathing made Q’s skin crawl. He hated to leave James like this, but he needed to find Alec.

 

~~~~

 

Q stared at his charge. Alec’s handsome face had been marred by burns from the chemicals in the factory when it blew up. Alec’s green eyes were cold and hard now, and full of anger and resentment. Q couldn’t believe it when he realized that Alec blamed James for his injuries and thought that James had betrayed and abandoned him.

He looked into the past once more, feeling Alec’s uncertainty with the mission and how surprised and pleased he’d been to see James before going on a long undercover assignment.

Ourumov hadn’t actually shot Alec, that had just been for show. Ourumov thought that they were tricking James into thinking Alec was dead, but the real reason was to make sure that Ourumov thought Alec had cut ties to MI6. Then there had been the explosion. Alec hadn’t expected the it. His only thought as heat and pain had engulfed him was worry for his partner’s safety. He had hoped that James had found some way out of the factory. Still, Alec had been confused and worried when he woke up and James wasn’t there. He’d hoped that James would find a way to check on him in the Soviet hospital where he had ended up.

Later, when he was able to establish contact with his MI6 handler, he’d asked for James, only to be told that James wanted nothing to do with him.

Q was confused. James thought Alec was _dead._ No one had passed along any messages — if they had, James would have moved heaven and Earth to be by his partner’s side.

There had to be a traitor in MI6, but Q had no idea how to let either of his charges know that. He couldn’t even let them know that if they went looking for each other, everything would be all right.

 

~~~~

 

Over the next two years, Q had to stand by, watching helplessly, as his two favorite charges slowly self-destructed.

James seemed bent on killing himself while on mission. His usual bravado became even more reckless as he ceased caring about his own safety and concentrated only on completing his missions. He was drinking more, and slept with any woman that was even remotely connected to his mission.

Alec went the opposite direction. He became cold and appeared to be unfeeling. He avoided human contact of any kind that might relieve his loneliness and pain. Q watched uneasily as Alec rebuffed the advances of Ourumov’s insane partner, Xenia Onatopp. His charge had been a challenge for her, and his rejection made her an enemy.

Q would sometimes catch each of them thinking about the other, and would try to comfort them, to no avail. A few times he would lay in bed beside them, and hold them through the night in an attempt to help them. Unfortunately, his efforts were not able to dent the pain and anger that surrounded his charges.

 

~~~~

 

Q was in despair. He couldn’t help James and Alec, but he hated to see them slowly self-destructing the way they were. He sat on the shore of his favorite spot, where the water creatures played on the banks, and opened himself to the visions of their futures.

His stomach churned as each future he saw was as horrible as the next. James and Alec would go on as they had, and end up dying young. Or, they would, at some time in the future, confront each other, only for one to kill the other, or for both to end up dead. If one of them did manage to survive the confrontation, he really didn’t, becoming merely a walking shell, constantly seeking out dangerous situations where the chances of death were certain.

And yet, Q hoped. If his two charges could meet and actually _talk_ to each other, they might yet understand what had happened and be able to reconcile, and become as close as they had been before.

His moment came at last, after James finished a mission where Q had watched him drink and fuck his way across Europe. James sat on his couch, drinking, as had become his usual pastime, and holding a photo of Alec. Q saw his chance and struck. He placed a tiny seed of doubt about the mission where Alec had died, hoping that would be enough to spur James into starting an investigation.

He smiled as James put aside the photo to change and go to MI6. He hoped that James would find some clue that would lead him to Alec.

With that thought, Q left James behind and headed to Russia.

 

~~~~

 

When he found his other charge, Q’s heart sank. Alec was staring at a photo of James and one of the women he had fucked during his last mission.

Alec’s eyes flicked up to a mirror on the wall, where his scarred face reflected back to him. He balled up the photo and hurled it into the fire with a roar of rage and pain. He stormed from the room, oblivious to the satisfied smirk of Xenia Onatopp, watching from the shadows of an alcove.

Q felt sick. How could he get Alec to listen when James found him?

 

~~~~

 

Three days later, Q was no closer to an answer. He’d spent the time going from Alec to James and back, with side trips to see his other charges. In that time, James had gone dark; MI6 lost contact with him. Q knew where James was, of course. He was working his way toward Russia with the tenacity of a hunting hound, following the trail of agents and dead drops that Alec used to get information to and from his MI6 handler.

James had gone from believing that Alec was dead to uncertainty. His hope that Alec was still alive grew stronger with each stop, along with the growing suspicion that Alec had betrayed MI6 — and James himself.

Alec discovered that James had gone off the grid. Q wasn’t sure how, but that Onatopp woman had looked particularly gleeful about the news. Alec spent some time pacing his room when he found out, muttering about James; first worried about him, and then hoping that James had been be killed.

Once in Moscow, James tore through the ranks of Russia’s underworld, searching for any traces of Alec. When he learned of Janus, his fury grew, certain now that Alec had betrayed him — and had planned that betrayal all along.

All Q could do was watch, just as helplessly as he had while James had tried to kill himself while on mission.

 

~~~~

 

“Bond is in Moscow!”

Q stood, incorporeal, next to Alec as Ourumov stormed into the study, Onatopp at his heels. He felt a surge of emotion from his charge as Alec looked up from his desk, his face a blank mask.

“And?”

Q was impressed at how cool and disinterested Alec sounded.

“He’s killing my men!”

Alec leaned back in his chair. “Then you have a problem, Colonel Ourumov.”

Ourumov glared at him, then swung around to face Onatopp. “Go to Bond and kill him!”

Alec shifted slightly, drawing their attention. Ourumov turned and snarled, “Do you have anything to add?”

“Not really.” Alec shrugged, unable to hide the hate in his eyes as he looked at Onatopp. “Do remember me to my old colleague when you kill him, Xenia.”

“But of course,” she smiled, a chilling thing that would be more at home on a shark. “That is, if we get around to talking.”

Alec’s fist clenched, out of sight of the other two.

“Wait, Xenia,” Ourumov called as Onatopp turned to leave. His eyes never left Alec’s.

Xenia scowled at him, sullenly asking, “What?”

“Our dear Janus should assist in killing his _former_ _colleague._ Get Bond, bring him to the cemetery. Janus can take some of our men and ambush him there.”

Q felt the effort it took for Alec to smile coldly at the man.

“Excellent idea, colonel.”

 _Oh dear._ Q bit his lip. This was going so very, very wrong.

 

~~~~

 

Q went to James, getting to him in time to follow Xenia leading him to the cemetery. Once there, James knocked her unconscious, then carefully picked his way through the headstones, heading for the mausoleum at the center of the cemetery.

Alec, Q knew, was waiting there for James.

James paused outside the the ring of headstones surrounding the mausoleum, as if he knew. And yet, when Alec emerged, a dark shape in shadow from the bright light behind him, James appeared uncertain. “Alec?”

“Hello, James.”

Q felt the horrible mishmash of emotions flooding James. Disbelief, elation, betrayal, desire. He felt the same conflicted emotions from Alec, but any hope he’d had that this would work out well vanished like smoke. His heart sank as his charges began verbally tearing into each other. He sensed that they were one wrong word away from a physical confrontation, and their words were bad enough. Each syllable was calculated to draw the most blood.

As closely as he was paying attention, he still missed the moment when one of those words cut too deeply. An animal sound of pain, choked off, was all the warning he got before James and Alec charged each other, intent on ripping each other apart.

With no conscious thought, Q found himself standing between the two charging bulls — corporeal.

“Stop!” he roared, astonishing himself as much as them.

“Who the hell are you?” Alec snarled, his hands clenching as he held himself back from attacking James.

“I’ve watched over you two since you were born, and I will not allow you to destroy each other over a misunderstanding!”

“What do you mean, ‘misunderstanding’?” James asked cautiously, looking from him to Alec, ready for a sudden attack.

“My name is Q,” he explained rapidly, desperately hoping they would listen to him instead of continuing their battle. “I’m a Guardian Angel — assigned to both of you. You were betrayed by someone within MI6, but I don’t know who it was.” As he spoke, explaining to them what had happened, he could feel their rage and pain drain slowly away, leaving behind suspicion tinged with sadness and regret.

“Why should we believe you?” Suspicion laced James’ tone.

Alec shook his head, turning to look James in the eye. “We shouldn’t. How can we trust him if he says he knows we were betrayed, but can’t tell us by whom?”

James nodded once, sharp, his eyes never leaving Alec’s. “You’re right. We can’t.”

Q opened his mouth and closed it again. What could he say to convince them? The situation seemed to be slipping away from him. He raised his chin. All he could do was try. “I’m an angel. I don’t know everything that happens, you know. Just what is relevant to you, and to my other charges. I know when you’re in danger or in distress, but that warning is usually only minutes in advance.”

“Where are —”

“What do —”  

Both James and Alec began speaking at the same time, asking different questions. They immediately stopped, exchanging a wealth of information in a minutely raised brow and a slightly tilted head. James gestured from Alec to Q.

Alec nodded to James and asked Q, “If you’re an angel, where are your wings?”

 _Oh._ Q let out a breath in relief. That was an easy one. With a thought, he manifested his wings, folded neatly against his back. Neither James nor Alec noticed. Q shook his head. “Watch this.” Borrowing a page from Rahiel, he snapped his wings out. He smirked at his charges’ stunned expressions.

James reached out, as if he wanted to touch the wing closest to him, and Q moved it away, just out of reach. “Don’t touch,” he murmured.

Since James appeared focused on Q’s wings, Alec stepped up to the plate once more. “What do you mean by other charges?”

“All of us, my siblings, I mean, have charges that we look after. We can’t interfere —“ Q broke off. He really ought to tell the truth… “Well, we’re not _supposed_ to interfere. We can, a bit. Normally, though, we support our charges through difficult times, so they’re not alone.”

James shook himself, wrenching his attention away from Q’s wings with a visible effort. “How often do you watch us?”

Q hesitated. “Erm….”

James’ eyes widened in realization. “You’ve watched us making love, haven’t you?”

“I just… I wanted to help.” Q bit his lip. Would they believe him?

“Help?” Alec’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

“I, yes. Erm.” Q fought the urge to shuffle his feet. He’d hoped to avoid that question. “I was so happy that you fell in love, but you wouldn’t stay together. I, erm… I sort of… encouraged? You to relax together more.”

_“How?”_

“I, well… If I touched you while you were… erm, _you know,_ you would stay together after, not just leave right away.” He flushed bright red, knowing that in human terms he’d overstepped. He worried about his charges’ reactions. “Your relationship was so important to you, but if you wouldn’t spend time together… I wanted you to be happy.”

“You watched us…” James glanced at Alec, exchanging information wordlessly, then they both looked at Q — a flicker of interest charging the air between them.

Wait — they were _intrigued?_ Q couldn’t believe it. It had to be because they’d been denied each other for so long. He needed to get them back on track. “Would you like to ask questions later? You need to get to safety. There are still criminals skulking around in the dark.”

Alec nodded. “Ourumov’s men. They’re here to make sure I kill you, James. And they’ll kill me, if I don’t.”

“We’ll just have to do something about that.” James squeezed Alec’s shoulder. “How do you want to do this?”

Alec smiled, a predator’s grin that alarmed Q. “We take them all out.”

James returned the deadly smile. “You always did know how to show me a good time, Alec.”

Just as Q was about to counsel caution and restraint, a summons tugged at him, stronger than any he had felt before. _Oh, Hell._ He flinched at the internal blasphemy. “Be careful, please. I love you both!”

James and Alec turned to him, their startled faces the last thing he saw as he left his charges, possibly for the last time, and went to face his doom.

 

~~~~

 

 _What the hell?_ “Where did he go?” James scanned the area, trying to find any sign of Q. He wasn’t sure if he believed that Q was an angel, but those wings….

“James. Have an existential crisis later. We need to take out the guards first.”

He jerked his attention back to Alec. “Right. Are you ready?”

Alec laughed, and _there_ was the bloodthirsty smile James loved, and that he’d missed. “I’ve been ready, James. Just waiting for you to catch up.”

“Then let’s go. After you, 006.”

 

~~~~

 

James poked at the chair behind the oversized desk, sending it spinning in a slow arc.

They had been puzzled by the strange man — the _angel_ — that had stopped them from killing each other at the cemetery, but after he vanished they put him out of their minds and concentrated on taking down Ourumov’s organization. Once they were satisfied that Ourumov was dead and his organization dismantled, they returned home, to MI6, and went hunting.

By the time the dust had cleared, they’d gone through the ranks, up to the head of MI6 himself, rooting out traitors. Now, they were done, and they needed to face their next challenge.

He poked the chair again, sending it spinning in the opposite direction. _Should he try it on for size?_ As if hearing his thought, Alec caught his eye, shooting him a sly glance, and nodded towards the chair with a raised eyebrow. James smirked back and dropped into the chair, bringing it to a stop facing their visitor — Olivia Mansfield, the chairwoman of the Intelligence and Security Committee.

“I hope you two are pleased with yourselves,” Mansfield said severely. The short, iron-haired woman stood ramrod straight, radiating disapproval. “You’ve decimated MI6. The pair of you have quite the rebuilding job ahead.”

James shrugged, nonchalant. “We can handle it.”

“We’re very good at what we do,” Alec said cheerfully from where he leaned, arms crossed, with one hip braced against the desk.

She sniffed, unimpressed. “Have you decided which one of you will be M?”

Alec jerked his thumb at James. “Him.”

“We flipped a coin.” James smiled, projecting his roguish charm.

Mansfield sighed heavily, rolling her eyes heavenward, as if asking for patience. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Don’t think that you two can pull the wool over my eyes. I was slated to be the next M, you know. I intend to keep a _very_ close eye on you.”

Despite her warning, James thought he detected a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “We never thought you wouldn’t.”

“Hmmm….” She studied him carefully, then Alec. “And what role will you play, Trevelyan?”

Alec shrugged, his green eyes still alight with humour. “Aggravating nuisance and gadfly.”

She snorted. “You are that.”

“Ah, he’ll be Chief of Staff,” James said quickly, hoping to head off any further ill-will Mansfield might harbour against them.

She eyed him skeptically. “Then I wish you good luck. God knows you’re going to need it. Good day, gentlemen.” She nodded to them and headed to the door of the office.

“I kind of like her,” Alec commented, watching as Mansfield left. Then he turned to James. “How does it feel to be the new M?”

“Odd.” James still had a hard time believing that he’d have to be the responsible one, now. Why couldn’t it have been Alec?

A tap at the door heralded a visitor, just before Miss Moneypenny breezed into the office. James bit back the automatic urge to flirt with her as he’d always done in the past.

She smirked at him, as if knowing just what was going through his mind. “The new Quartermaster, Adam Newman, is here. He wants to discuss his branch’s budget for the next quarter.”

“A budget meeting? Oh, Hell. Kill me now, Alec,” James groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Alec leaned over to pat James’ shoulder in commiseration. “There, there, old boy. It’s not the end of the world. Send him in, Miss Moneypenny,” he said, his voice full of suppressed humour.

Moneypenny chuckled as she went back to the outer office, leaving the door open. Her voice sounded clear from the other room as she said, “Go right in.”

“Thank you.”

James looked up at the almost familiar voice. He’d heard it before, but where?

A slim young man, with wild dark hair and glasses, entered the office.

“Q?” James stared in shock. He was sure it was the same… _individual,_ from the cemetery. _Where were his wings?_ He dismissed the irrational thought and stood, going around his desk. Alec joined him, and they went to stand in front of the man who had kept them from killing each other in the cemetery.

“I’ve had to… change jobs,” Q said with a self-deprecating smile. “I do hope you don’t mind that I’m working here, now.”

Alec grinned broadly. “Not at all.”

James slanted a glance at Alec, then smirked at Q. They’d planned what they would do if they ever saw their angel again. “We’ve talked about what you told us, you know.”

Q blinked rapidly. “Erm, What do you mean?”

Alec moved close to him, leaning down to whisper into the angel’s ear. “You’ve watched us.”

“You wanted us,” James added, watching Q closely for any hint their flirting was unwelcome. But Q had said that he loved them when he vanished at the cemetery…

“I do? I mean, I…  But…” Q stumbled to a stop, his eyes shifted back and forth between the two of them.

“Would you like to join us, Q?”

“We’ll understand if you say no, but we hope you’ll say yes.”

Q took a deep breath. “And what if I do? Say yes, I mean.”

Triumph surged through James. “Then we date, and get to know each other, and see where this relationship takes us.”

“A relationship?” Q asked, wonder in his voice. “That would be… yes, I think I’d like to try.”

“Excellent,” Alec said, leaning close as he murmured to Q. “I think going out to dinner would be a perfect first date.”

James agreed — in general, anyway. He didn't care if they went to dinner or just fell into bed together. He and Alec were familiar with each other. Too familiar, some would say. He wasn't bored with Alec, but discovering the possibilities opened up by bringing someone new into their relationship would be a challenge. He smirked. He was looking forward to learning everything he could about their guardian quartermaster.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love reviews, comments, and any other sort of communication. Feel free to stop in to say hi - you can find me on Tumblr at leavesdancing.tumblr.com, or at my Bond fandom tumblr, zephyrfox.tumblr.com.


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